Maybe, if we could hear from some of the gatekeepers, traffic directors, shuttle drivers, radio squawkers, kitchen cooks, scouters, seed campers, clean-up crewers (and others), a better appreciation might develop about how the Rainbow Village is kept ticking and flowing at each gathering.

Warner

From: Happy Shel
Subject: Request for Stories
Date: July 27, 1997

Warner writes:

> Maybe, if we could hear from some of the gatekeepers, traffic directors, shuttle drivers, radio squawkers, kitchen cooks, scouters, seed campers, clean-up crewers (and others), a better appreciation might develop about how the Rainbow Village is kept ticking and flowing at each gathering.

This is Happy Shel......I was one of the 47 volunteer shuttle drivers at National, who drove an average of 12 hrs a day, July 1-3 and July 5 & 6, shuttling thousands of Family up the 3.7 mile hill (at 10 mph) to Welcome Home and down. For those of you who walked "the hill," it was a monster, wasn’t it? How did ya’ll like that 1/4 mile hike from Welcome Home to the first pickup at Quarry? The road was dangerous especially at night!

A lot of shit goes on outside the gathering and many thanks and love to all the Family who volunteer their time to manage the road and the Walkies. There are emergencies occurring daily with family being injured or having medical emergency’s where someone with a van has to be available to take the injured to the hospital at Prineville, which, if memory serves me right, was 40 miles away.

I drove two sisters to the hospital. The first sister had fractured her right ankle attempting to cross the wooden bridge at Trade Circle on Tuesday night with a full back pack. The second sister was hemorrhaging (sp) severely at G-Funk on Saturday night and first had to be strecthered up the hill to the Quarry road and then rushed at break neck speed to the Triage setup at FS HQ. Many thanks to all the Family who pitched in to save this sisters life, and many thanks to FS LEO’s who escorted us down the mountain at 11 pm.

Then there was the brother who did the acid test and was found wandering, naked, down the hill at Point, Point and had to be lovingly restrained because he was standing in the fire to get warm. You remember how cold nights were? Shanti Sena managed to cover him with a blanket and deliver him to CALM for healing.

Every day and every night LEO’s and FS vehicles were constantly on the road and had to be tracked and managed. It takes many eyes to see where they go......eyes that have to be awake late at night. Thanks to Shanti Sena for always monitoring the roving FS road blocks and assisting pulled over brothers and sisters.

This is just one of the stories in the naked city.

Let’s hear from the others.

WE LOOOOVE YOOOOOOU!

From: Karin Zirk
Subject: Request for Stories
Date: July 28, 1997

WSB3A...@aol.com wrote:

> Maybe, if we could hear from some of the gatekeepers, traffic directors, shuttle drivers, radio squawkers, kitchen cooks, scouters, seed campers, clean-up crewers (and others), a better appreciation might develop about how the Rainbow Village is kept ticking and flowing at each gathering.

At this gathering, I ended up spending quite a bit of time doing Shanti Sena stuff. One incident in particular illustrates to me the good and bad of our family. It’s a long story, so I’ll summarize it here. An older brother (late 50’s early 60’s) meet a young sister (18). The young sister was an extremely open person and had come to the gathering looking for healing. The older brother believed himself to be a healer. So he talked to this young sister until he had her believing that there was something wrong with her sexuality, but he could help heal her.

So the older brother whipped the younger sister on her genitals with a belt because he felt her spirit asking for it. Her version of what happened is that she felt so totally manipulated by him that she was too scared to scream out and ask for help. Two days later she came forward and the older brother was found and brought to a Shanti Sena Council. This council reached consensus for the older brother to be escorted out of the gathering. Unfortunately, while he was leaving our family attacked him verbally and physically. He was yelled at, spit at, and pushed. This behavior caused the younger sister much anguish. And she asked that he not be forced to leave until she had time to make her peace with the older brother.

Unfortunately, when the younger sister spoke with the older brother, he manipulated her again and he ended up staying.

The next day there was a second Shanti Sena council to discuss what happened. At that time a sister mentioned the older brother had done the same thing to a friend of hers in 1994 at a non-Rainbow event. After much discussion, the council was unable to decide what, if anything should be done to the older brother. When I tried to suggest that a few strong family babysit him for the rest of the gathering, I was ohmed down and then I left the circle.

The result of this second council is that the older brother was left to roam our gathering and manipulate impressionable people at will.

Subsequently I discovered another sister who had a similar experience with this brother. It appears he has a pattern of manipulating young and open sisters, sexually abusing (but not penetrating) them, and leaving them with the feeling that he needs healing and was trying to help them, so they don’t want to tell anyone else.

The folks who didn’t want any action to be taken towards the older brother believe they are doing so out of love. I disagree. This incident caused me to to some serious thinking on what love is. I tried to think of the highest form of love there is and determined that our love for our children is the most powerful, honest, unselfish love we have. However, when we love our children, we don’t love all their actions. We prevent and/or punish certain actions. For example, just because a 4 year old wants to play in the street, does not mean we let them. We tell them no, because we love them. And if necessary, we physically remove them from the street.

When my three year old nephew is mean to his one year old brother, the three year old gets a time out so he can understand that it’s not ok to push baby brother down the stair. I do this out of love for both my nephews.

Some of our brothers and sisters who are walking around in adult bodies are in fact children. We do them no service if we say "I love you so whatever you do is ok." We serve our family better by saying "I love you, but the action that you did is not acceptable to us. Therefore, we will have someone stay with you until you learn not to do that anymore."

Love is helping my brothers and sisters grow. Love is protecting the innocent among us from those who take advantage of that innocence. Love is be willing to say "I love you, but you can not play in the street, hurt your friends, etc." Just one of many stories of life and healing from the gathering.

Love,
Karin

From: BlakPlanet
Subject: Request for Stories
Date: July 29, 1997

> Two days later she came forward and the older brother was found and brought to a Shanti Sena Council. This council reseached consensus for the older brother to be escorted out of the gathering.

I’m confused as to why once other women had identified this man as being a predator, he was allowed to stay. I’m also sorry that the 18 year old victim was not empowered enough that even though people may have pushed and spat at him (he was lucky he was at a rainbow gathering) that she felt guilt at having him be expelled. It concerns me for the safety of all women at the gathering that we do not have a satisfactory way to deal with issues of violence against women as a family. If this man has been perpetrating these sorts of abuses for more than one gathering, there needs to be some sort of continuity about how to deal with him. I wonder, will the young woman return next year? What was done to help her heal?

> At this gathering, I ended up spending quite a bit of time doing Shanti Sena stuff. One incident in particular illustrates to me the good and bad of our family. It’s a long story, so I’ll summarize it here.

hey now!

wow, sis. What happened to the circus tent, the tea circle at calm, where folks are evaluated and placed either under one on one supervision or kept in groups? There is NO PLACE for sexual exploitation of each other in our family... I have seen brothers evicted from many gatherings due to mere coercion... verbal manipulation geared towards sisters who are "wide open" spiritually, and mistakenly treated as "wide open" in other ways. There is no reason for us to tolerate jerks like that, and the sister should not have been enabled to discuss a da-n thing with him... Abusers thrive on the low self-esteem of their chosen victims... and further contact only (as you mentioned, sis) encourages their manipulation of the victim. This stinks.

Our family is more dysfunctional than straight society these days, at least most states have stalker laws now. I just can’t believe we allowed a predator to remain in gather. I hope and pray that he finds a way to love.

maddy clare

From: Karin Zirk
Subject: Request for Stories
Date: July 29, 1997

re: Older brother who sexually exploited a young sister

Everything was done according to council process. I sat in two councils that discussed this. The people decided.

The only way I could have prevented the sister from talking to the older brother was to have thrown her down on the ground and fought with her.

> Two days later she came forward and the older brother was found and brought to a Shanti Sena Council. This council reached consensus for the older brother to be escorted out of the gathering. Unfortunately, while he was leaving our family attacked him verbally and physically. He was yelled at, spit at, and pushed. This behavior caused the younger sister much anguish. And she asked that he not be forced to leave until she had time to make her peace with the older brother.

I saw that scene myself.

Coming up Main Trail just past the big boogie fire pit, I saw a mob of about twenty people surrounding a brother in a purple coat and a velvet top hat. The man was being held by the arms by two other men walking him forward, while the others were walking in a flattened circle around him. There was a sister walking along to the left of the group, yelling around at everybody, "Everybody take a look at this man. He is a SEXUAL PREDATOR! Everybody be sure to remember what this man looks like. See this man in the purple coat? He is a SEXUAL PREDATOR!!"

I felt like I was watching one of those parades they had in Nazi Germany, where someone had to walk around with a sign saying something like "I’m a big swine and Jew fucker", or one of those parades thru a Paris street, just after WWII, of women with their faces shaved off because they were "collaborators". (Another person that I talked about it with the next day said it reminded her of the climactic scene in the movie "Frankenstein".)

I was totally grossed out by the whole movie. I first tried talking with the sister who was doing the yelling, telling her how I felt like I was in the places I’ve mentioned. She went on yelling, so I stopped. I couldn’t just let it all go by, tho - so I followed it, not really knowing what to do because I felt like I was all alone against all of them, trying to put out the Dresden fire storm with a squirt gun.

They were getting a few hundred feet in front of me by the time they had descended the hill beyond Trading Circle and were getting ready to climb back up from the stream towards Welcome Home. I heard Barry Plunker’s voice in the distance in front of them yelling "Stop, stop!". I ran up to the stage as I heard Plunker’s voice saying phrases like "treat each other with respect...is this the way the Rainbow family treats each other with love?..."

By the time I got up, he was winding up his speech - and at this point the movie script said, "Enter Butterfly Bill". Without waiting for the others to quiet down I yelled, "I’ve got some things to say about this", and then went on to compare it to the Nazi and Paris parades, talking louder than I ever have anywhere at any gathering (and those of you who know me in person know that I am usually pretty quiet except when I’m cussing at my own misfortunes). Nobody said much after I shut up. I looked around to see some suppressed sobs and pained looks of "what have we done" on a few of the faces, I heard some muttering, one person tried to argue with me but it didn’t get past a few exchanges. I think my final words were, "What appeal does he have from a court like this?" Plunker had dug a break in front of the fire, I emptied the water on it, and all that was left was a little steam rising.

About an hour later I said "I need a hug from Barry Plunker" upon seeing him again, and I went up to him and got a long one. He told me some more things about the story, about how the couple had been carrying on with each other and repeating the classic Cycle of Violence with each other for quite some time - about how he suspected they were into S&M, and agreed with me when I suggested she had managed to create one of the supreme masochistic games for that man by leading him into that movie. According to Barry, an hour later they were in each other’s arms again having an Academy Award make-up scene.

- Butterfly Bill

Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com

From: IaHU-NaTaN
Subject: Request for Stories
Date: August 3, 1997

Greetings!

> > Two days later she came forward and the older brother was found and brought to a Shanti Sena Council. This council reached consensus for the older brother to be escorted out of the gathering. Unfortunately, while he was leaving our family attacked him verbally and physically. He was yelled at, spit at, and pushed. This behavior caused the younger sister much anguish. And she asked that he not be forced to leave until she had time to make her peace with > the older brother.

This was a very difficult situation to say the least... I was present at the "Grandfathers council" when individuals involved with shanti-sena.. brought the matter and the sisters into the circle.

It was quite a moving scene... and seemed to me appropriate to be heard by the above said council..

A little background.. This I is a Separatist.. though I recognise a Spirit Given hunger for Unity.. I also know that we can only come into that Unity through Separating from those things that separated us from that UNITY... when the Individual I comes into Unity with the Creator then and only then can we find Unity with our Kindren.. Until then the gathering can be a Beautiful Expression.. and we can Learn Many LESSONS There. I came to the gathering to share with others.. to observe.. and to help where I am able.. So I was there observing the "grandfathers council" and on a high stump was seated an old man in a purple cloak with a staff.. he spoke well with a smooth accent.. he appeared to be wise and "grandfatherly".. a younger brother interrupts the circle by returning to him a piece of jewelry (I believe) saying "the circle is broken" and returning to the direction he came from...

A while later three sisters are brought into the circle.. as they were in great Grief.. the "accuser" could hardly speak except to say that she had been violated by the man in the purple cloak and that she wanted him to leave the gathering.. she allowed one of the other sisters to describe what had happened.. Apparently he had taken it on to help "heal" her sexuality by striking (gently he says) her genitals with a belt.. against her consent.. though admittedly one does not get into that sort of position without a certain degree of consent.. we are also dealing with a persuasive smooth talking "magician" of 75 years.. and 18 maybe 19 year old (impressionable) girl.

The grandfathers circle did not want to take up the matter then and there but chose to wait till after the meeting... and the "accused" wanted to remain in the council till completion... as a token that the matter would not simply be blown off.. the Icon that the grandfathers were passing around (to remember whose turn it was to talk) was given (not with consensus) to the sisters... a few hours later.. the man was escorted to a shanti-sena council.. where more was heard.. and the decision was to honor the sisters wishes and escort him from the gathering..

Which did become very ugly.. and there were a few sisters and brothers very angry with him... and yelling all those things.. and people were coming up to strike the guy and threaten him.. I was there to shield him from harm... to keep him from getting hurt.. but was not going to attempt to control the mob.. it was an expression of anger.. it seems that they wanted to shame him and teach him a lesson.. but from the start I perceived that he knew how to play the circle and could recognise a Stage when he saw one... he played the part to the hilt!

> About an hour later I said "I need a hug from Barry Plunker" upon seeing him again, and I went up to him and got a long one. He told me some more things about the story, about how the couple had been carrying on with each other and repeating the classic Cycle of Violence with each other for quite some time -

not so...

Though the incident was two days old when it finally came to "council" It was not ongoing.. but rather a one time occurrence.. she was "sitting in the smoke of a fire when he came in and made the wind blow a different direction (with his magic) this impressed her, she had said, and they began to talk.. she told one of the sisters that she felt that he was "in her head" and yet she felt that this wise old man could help her with her "problem"... " (she had had trouble attaining orgasms..) after a bit of "foreplay " he ended up sitting on her with his back turned.. and suddenly starting the belt action.. she closed her legs said no he pushed them back open.. she said it was strange and apparently afterwards it bothered her.. finally she mentioned it to someone else.. who found it upsetting.. so they brought it to shanti-sena..

> about how he suspected they were into S&ed.sM, and agreed with me when I suggested she had managed to create one of the supreme masochistic games for that man by leading him into that movie. According to Barry, an hour later they were in each other’s arms again having an Academy Award make-up scene.

what happened was the sister was horrified by the way the fellow was being treated.. and was actually afraid of some of the threats.. she did not want to be the cause of his harm.. (she was also tripping) she was running after the "procession" and was contacted by an individual sister who was doing shanti-sena.. who radio’d the gate where we had just arranged a safe ride... we were asked to wait she was coming up to talk.. when she arrived she and him and two of his friends went off alone to talk.. then she came back with a totally different story.. and that she loved him and it was what she wanted and had needed for her "healing"..

The next day a sister brought a letter to the "grandparents circle" that the girl just wrote saying that she had been afraid that he would be harmed.. and did want him to leave on his own free will. He didn’t.. but Ironically was later chased out of the gathering for being "annoying".. he had a way of standing in the circle and thumping the earth with his staff.. and speaking out of turn.....

What this all points out is that the "rainbow" does not have an effective way of dealing with these situations.. and resolving an issue often means "ok everybody hurry up and agree so we can get our warm clothes.. and see if there is some leftover dinner to eat"

I hope my perspective of this is helpful... don’t really want to spend more time on it.. too much already..

==== Praying for Blessings of WellBeing Past OverFlowing to you and those Dear ones!

>Though the incident was two days old when it finally came to "council" It was not ongoing.. but rather a one time occurence..

You are most likely correct. What I said was hearsay, and I hope I identified it as that clearly enough. Thank you for filling out this story some more.

> What this all points out is that the "rainbow" does not have an effective way of dealing with these situations..

A painful HO...

Back in ol’ Babs, they’ve been spending a few centuries developing concepts of due process of law, involving such things as fair trials, the rights of the accused, power to call witnesses - all designed to prevent French revolutionary scenes such as the one we’ve been talking about. These kinds of concepts are still in a very primitive stage of development in Rainbow shanti-sena.

When you get right down to it, every shanti-sena council at a Gathering is a summary trial, "summary" meaning that’s all there is, there are no other people involved in it, people that the people in this court have to be responsible to. There is no court of appeals that can overturn their decision if they have been found to have violated the laws that are supposed to apply to everybody - judge, jury, and defendant alike. There is no set protocol for objectively examining evidence, and not letting emotions be the order of the day. (At the council, did the older brother get his 5th Amendment rights to face his accuser and call witnesses? Sounds like he did, but it’s not clear.)

This does not mean that the Beast is therefore loose. There are ideals of peace and non-violence that are sought by many Rainbows, and almost always in a shanti-sena movie there will be enough of these people present to prevent vigilante feelings from prevailing. Sometimes it take a long time, tho - the parade under discussion went on for many minutes before Plunker came along to restore Rainbow order.

The intensity of the scene answers the question raised by some of the sisters at the beginning of this thread, about why this man was allowed to stay. If two strong brothers and one firm but gentle talking sister had just escorted him out without fanfare, the problem might have been over real fast. But that virtual tar and feather parade turned the whole picture around. I know I would have tried to defend ANYBODY in the middle of a scene like that, even Mike Tyson or O.J. himself. The young sister was probably remembering Rainbow ideals more than anyone there, wanting to forgive him and bring back peace.

- Butterfly Bill

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From: Rob Savoye
Subject: Request for Stories
Date: August 5, 1997

> From: Butterfly BillSubject: Re: Request for stories

More later when I get a chance, but I was also involved in this movie and the following Shanti-Sena council. Just as a note, I talked to several people afterwards that knew the accused brother, and most felt he was weird, but not usually harmful. Course then all the rumors started about his "previous problems" of a similar nature.

> letting emotions be the order of the day. (At the council, did the older brother get his 5th Amendment rights to face his accuser and call witnesses? Sounds like he did, but it’s not clear.)

Yes, he got to face his accusers. He also agree with most everything he had been accused of, and just tried to say that he didn’t mean anything by his actions. We attempted to find witness to support his side of the story, but as he admitted everything, it was kinda useless. His main defense was merely that he didn’t get an erection.

> to stay. If two strong brothers and one firm but gentle talking sister had just escorted him out without fanfare, the problem might have been over real fast. But that virtual tar and feather parade turned the whole

I agree with you on this. Things would have been very different if he had been escorted out quietly. Usually when folks get escorted out, it is done more mellow. I think part of it was that as Brother C----s seemed to be hiding in the Grandfather council, some folks lost patience. Remember, the sister was very upset, and saying that she had been raped. Her accusations were taken seriously, and as brother C----s basically admitted to everything that happened in the council, it seemed a pretty sure thing...

> sister was probably remembering Rainbow ideals more than anyone there, wanting to forgive him and bring back peace.

Actually I believe it was that she was very confused. I’ve sat in many brother-sister councils like this before, and it’s always tough to understand where reality is. People’s past history and all of our perceptions of reality get involved, and it’s very difficult for those of us not at the "scene of the crime" to understand people’s motivations, and what *really* happened.

Personally, a 76 year old man should have the common sense to realize that being in a tent alone with an 18 year old sister and whipping her with a belt for 2 hours between her legs is going to be "potentially misunderstood". The fact that he had taken advantage of her while she was tripping is also not a cool thing to do.

I was the sister who raido’d the front gate and stopped the brother from leaving. However, to clarify matters, I had been with the sister for a few hours (without a break) before this point. I was one of the sisters who entered the Grandfather Circle with her.

She was with me and begged me to radio the front gate and keep the brother from being evicted. Which I did. Personally, I didn’t want to do this, but I felt that it was her right. I pulled every string I have with this family to stop this brother from leaving the gathering. Even though I have lived to curse this action, I don’t regret it.

> But in the end, the sister who was violated asked the council to escort him out of the gathering, and those in the council agreed that it was the right thing to do.

Again, remember, no one at a rainbow gathering has the legal authority to violate another’s constitutional rights. Detaining anyone against their will is illegal in every state and charges can be brought. At best Shanta sena can be an agent for conflict resolution but WE ARE NOT COPS! ---------- s

For a change, how about some stories of shanti-sena happenings that turned out right.....

About two hours after sunrise on the fourth (the Silence had begun), I had come down the trail from Dragon Camp kitchen, and was pausing just before emerging from the woods, when I heard some sisters yelling “Shanti-sena, shanti-sena”. A young brother and sister were running around me, and the sister said, “Where are these shanti-sena people when you need them?”, and made a crack about people up partying all night. I piped in immediately, “It’s all of us”, and the other agreed – and we all started toward the source of the noise. I had my usual feeling of “I really don’t want to fuck with this now” battling my sense of duty and my curiosity for excitement. It always takes a few minutes to shift gears.

I looked around, and on the other side of the trail from the big firepit I saw a man staggering around totally nude, yelling loudly and unconnectedly, “W-O-O-O-O....oh WOW...L---K---, you are FUCKED UP....W-O-O-O-O...”, and on and on like that. He was obviously on some powerful psychedelic, and what his eyes were seeing was a kaleidoscope show. He was Chicano or Middle Eastern looking, of average height but very big and husky – and as I was soon to find out – quite strong in the muscles. He was very frisky and moving suddenly, bumping into people and grabbing at their clothes, sometimes grabbing his penis and trying to jack off – scary, un-understandable, uncontrollable – not to mention disturbing the Silence.

There were about twenty or so people there, and spontaneously a few of them joined hands, others saw and joined in, and soon everyone formed into a circle around the man, saying softly, “O-o-o-o-om”. A standard shanti-sena procedure that enough people knew and others quickly learned.

I thought of joining the circle myself, but I soon decided my part in the movie had better be roving. He would go up randomly to people in the circle and grab their arms or their clothes – I started walking around the outside reaching in with my arms getting him to let go whenever he did grab somebody. A young brother came up to him and started to beat on him violently when he went after a young sister, and I had to fend him off and calm him down, but I got a lot of vocal help from other people in the circle.

It was not that much into the morning, and I was still wearing most of my cold night clothes – a sweatshirt, two dresses, another skirt underneath, and a shawl around me. He started grabbing at my clothes, so I quickly ran back to a pile of logs and started taking things off and leaving them in a pile there. I went back a second time a few minutes later, and was soon out there bare chested, in nothing but an elastic top skirt.

All this time I was trying to do what I had figured out in various Dead Show parking lots in the past – try to make some sense out of what he was babbling, and bring him back to where he’s standing. There usually are logical connections between all the disconnected ramblings, finding them is a puzzle, but they’re there. He kept repeating “L---K---, you are a fuckhead...L---K---, you really did it this time...L---K---,.....” (L---K--- was a name, that I’m not giving out on the World Wide Web). I asked “Who’s L---K---? Is he a friend of your’s? Are you L---K---? over and over. In between I was saying things like “Hear the om? It’s the cosmic sound. Listen to the om.” Any other thing he said I tried to ask questions about. It started to sound like he himself was L---K--- after asking a while.

I went inside the circle with him, and I was kind of herding him around, taking hold of his arm and pulling him back if he went toward someone, pulling his hands away when he grabbed at mine. Somewhere in the course of the maneuverings I had got ahold of his hand in the affectionate manner, and my other hand around his wrist with my own forearm against his so I had some leverage. Another brother came in and got ahold of him on the other side, and we were both there trying to talk him down. It was going real slow, tho – and he was a heavy thing to try to move around.

By this time a slightly grey haired brother from CALM had showed up, and he was outside the circle when he said to me, in a very gentle and comforting tone that I think he had done some practice on, “We’re really gonna have to get him to CALM so we can give him some medicine”. I answered back, “You’re probably gonna need six wrestlers to move him there”. He just stood back and, like me, started watching what was going on, waiting to see if any openings appeared.

After 15-20 minutes – I don’t know what the exact stimulus was – he started walking forward with the other brother and me, letting us guide him. We started to steer him toward CALM, which was several hundred yards away. The circle of thirty or so people reduced itself to about ten and started walking behind us.

He was starting to stagger, and it was looking like we weren’t going to make it to CALM, so we set our sights on a tree by Main Trail. We didn’t make it that far either. He fell backwards, the two of us holding him lifted up to slow his fall, and he was then on his back on the ground with the CALM brother over him, and the circle of people around. The CALMer gave him a bit of osha root, gave him some water, started talking to him some more. Hummingbird Cowboy had showed up with his radio (he was probably who got CALM there). I walked past him and gave him a military salute like I was going off duty – and walked back to gather up my clothes and pack. I came back to watch the doctor at his art a little more, and maybe find out how the movie was going to end. I never did that day, tho – I wanted to get to the Silent Meditation.

A few mornings later I saw the brother working in Dragon kitchen, acting as normally as normal is at a Rainbow Gathering. I didn’t think it would do any good to ask, “Remember me?”, as gone as he was that other morning.

This all took a lot more time, and was sometimes tedious, but I think it was a lot better than what they would have done with him in Babylon - where they might have put him in restraints, certainly filled him up with something like Thorazine, and likely had flashing blue and red lights and an air of fear radiating everywhere.

A bunch of people knew what to do – call, “Shanti-sena”, form a circle around the trouble, replace the sounds of bad energy with the sound of Om. Somebody was able to control things until other people better equipped had the time to show up. There were no injuries, no damage other than one brother’s shirt getting torn. Several of the people involved wanted to give me hugs later. After feeling a symphony of emotions, I went to the Silent Meditation feeling pretty damn good about myself and all those people around me.

> For a change, how about some stories of shanti-sena happenings that turned out right.....
> - Butterfly Bill

This movie was worse than anything I’ve ever seen passing through A-camp...NOBODY gets this drunk! He’s also very lucky he didn’t wander into A-camp in this state; the folks there would not have known how to deal with him, besides perhaps knocking him out cold. I can get scary when someone can’t handle their high, especially when it comes to psychotropic drugs. Good job, Bill! Peace...

Biker Bill

[There was a post by Rob Savoye on either August 8 or 9 that is missing from the archive.]

> Helped the 2-3 people a day who broke their legs get to the emergency room with no ambulances, got them fixed up, and brought them back to the gathering. Many of these seemed always be between 3-6am.

<LONG snip>

> Followed many LEOs...
> - rob -

Ca-BRON - Rob, you’re working too hard! Sit down and take a rest...

Makes sense that most were between 3-6am. That’s when people are the tiredest and the most fucked up on what ever it is they’ve been taking, and when it’s the darkest and easiest to fall over and run into stuff. I guess most of the badge and radio staff had to catch their zees in the morning - that would explain why most of my shanti-sena movies happened in the early hours, between sunrise and when it was just coming over the trees. I was there by default during those hours. Glad to help take up some slack for youse guys.

But really, now - you don’t think it’s really work, do you? You appreciate the feeling of empowerment that comes from knowing that you can face all these kinds of things, understand them, and fix them. And being able to be patient because you know how things work and can see them working right now. And knowing what is really going on amid all the rumors. And the intensity of the feelings and the intimacy of the contact with the others you interact with. Beats being a bliss ninny who is looking for his next helping of chemicals. You remember a good shanti-sena ride longer than any drum jam or score of far out zuzus.

In fact, it is such a rush that some people get addicted. I gotta have a new crisis - I haven’t been scared shitless for over an hour! I won’t mention names, but I’d like to figure out how to get H.C. to put down his radio for one full 24 hour period.

Keep up the good work - but save a few trauma dramas for some of the rest of us who need a good dose of confidence renewal, ok?.

> morning - that would explain why most of my shanti-sena movies happened in the early hours, between sunrise and when it was just coming over the trees. I was there by default during those hours. Glad to help take up some slack for youse guys.

Yeah, I don’t expect to go to sleep till after dawn... But it sure is hard to find coffee when you wake up at noon. :-) Thanks for all the help this year, it’s really appreciated knowing somebody else is awake at that time of the morning.

> But really, now - you don’t think it’s really work, do you? You It’s not work, it’s fun! I love chasing hatchet wielding wingnuts across the gathering. :-) Seriously though, I’m always glad to put my college education to work...
> mention names, but I’d like to figure out how to get H.C. to put down his radio for one full 24 hour period.

Good luck. I did manage in the Ozarks to get him to put them down for the night, and in Oregon, he actually bothered to get some sleep! Btw-- HC seems to have found a nice place in the Ozarks to live, so he’s doing well. Doesn’t sound like he’s gonna make our regional now.

> Keep up the good work - but save a few trauma dramas for some of the rest of us who need a good dose of confidence renewal, ok?.

From: John Tarleton
Subject: Rainbow Journal: The Death of Sun Bear
Date: July 22, 1999

NOTE: This story is based on a composite of my own first-person experiences and observations as well as what I learned from talking to as many people as possible who were involved in any way with the events around Sun Bear’s tragic death. Sun Bear was a wonderful human being and my hope is that we can draw whatever lessons we need to from this incident.

Sun Bear’s Last Day

Sun Bear’s last day was a mundane one, at least at first. He woke up on July 12th at NERF, where he always camped, and had a late-morning breakfast. He was in a cheerful mood in spite of a cold that was slowing him down. NERF was doing cleanup work by day and hosting mellow music jams by night. Many of Sun Bear’s friends at the kitchen were the same people who had thrown a surprise 70th birthday party for him in December. This was his 14th gathering, and he was having a good time.

During the gathering, Sun Bear had rarely left his perch on the ridge overlooking Bear Creek except to help count the money that was collected each night in the Magic Hat. He was looking forward to staying until July 17th, before returning to New Hampshire for a medical appointment. He had had minor heart surgery in May and the doctor wanted to see how he was doing. Sun Bear decided to leave the muggy, stifling heat of the Gathering for an afternoon to venture into town with a couple of friends. He was looking both to relax and to research how best to set up the Rainbow ‘99 Cleanup Fund. He had heard that there were many people on the outside who wanted to send donations to the Magic Hat.

He went to Ridgway and had a couple of cheeseburgers at Aellos on Main St. He thought all the protein would do him some good. I first ran into him in front of the Elk County Courthouse. I had just tried placing a phone call and he was putting more change in the parking meter where a friend’s white Cutlass station wagon was parked. We stopped and made small talk for a couple of minutes. Tall and broad-shouldered, he looked around at all the young hippies sprawled out on the courthouse lawn and joked about how there were now more gatherers in Ridgway than back at camp. He then hurried along to get to the YMCA in time for a $1 hot shower.

Later, I saw him walking in front of the Dollar General store. He was running his fingers through his long, damp silver hair. We had worked together in the same kitchen for the past six years and I was going to call out to him in a Southern drawl: “Hey long hair! Whatchya doin’ in this here town?” But he was a little too far in front of me, and I said nothing.

Minutes later, I was walking on a sidewalk headed out of town when the now familiar station wagon drove by me. If I had been facing traffic, Sun Bear and the others would have pulled over and offered to squeeze me in. It was roughly 5 o’clock and I regretted missing the ride. However, I looked forward to seeing him later in the evening.

Sun Bear in Distress

The next time I saw Sun Bear he was crumpled over on his side, lying in the ferns and dead leaves just above Krystal Kitchen. Returning from town, I had stopped to watch Vision Council for a few minutes in the same way a curious pedestrian will take a long glance at a carwreck. Suddenly, a messenger from Krystal Kitchen bolted into the middle of the circle and announced there was a major emergency going on by his kitchen. The council adjourned immediately and several of us hustled down the trail to see what was going on.

Sun Bear was moaning with great pain (“Ohhhh...Ohhhh...Ohhhh...”) and his hands were cupped on his belly. He had parked at Telegraph Hill and (in spite of being encouraged to lie down and rest) made it this far down the Main Trail. His skin had broken into hives and he was desperately trying to both vomit and to defecate. His warm, gentle blue eyes registered pain and confusion. His lunch had become a time bomb. The hamburger meat that Sun Bear had eaten a few hours earlier was now putrefying inside of his stomach. And his system (which was heavily medicated) was freaking out.

The sense of urgency accelerated when we realized who was in trouble. One old road dog swiftly built a stretcher out of poles, blue tarp and brown duct tape while another old hand went around recruiting stretcher carriers.

“Hey you people,” he said to the hippies who were lounging in front of the kitchen and along the trail, “if any of you ever wanted to do something useful at this gathering, now’s your chance. One of the most loved and respected brothers in this whole family is in bad shape and he needs your help.”

Soon, we were ready to move out. I was on the front righthand side of the stretcher as we splashed right through the creek and started up the muddy trail where Jerusalem Camp, Aloha, Monterey Mud and Bliss had been located. It was dusk and we were a couple of miles from the road. We were in constant radio contact with Shanti Sena on Telegraph Hill. There was roughly a dozen brothers and one small but gritty sister on the stretcher crew. Everyone was completely focused on the mission at hand: getting Sun Bear up and out of the Gathering as swiftly as possible. We weren’t thinking beyond that.

I had been plagued by a cold for several days. But when I squished my bare toes around inside of my soaked shoes, I felt another surge of energy. Four people at a time carried the stretcher. With so many extras, we were constantly passing it off among ourselves like a baton, never missing a stride. We talked constantly among ourselves:

“A little higher front left. Hold it a little higher!”...”OK, we need someone on front right. Let him come up behind you and take it.”...”Keep on going straight ahead! Right through the mud!”...Sun Bear was fully conscious and he must have felt the love around him.

Dusk turned to darkness and the canopy of black cherry trees spun overhead. We continued switching off the stretcher and people ran ahead to light the trail. I thought back to how I first met Sun Bear at the ‘93 Alabama Gathering; a smiling, robust man who was always ready to sling on his empty backpack and go on another long supply run. He had served in the Army during Korea and later hiked the Appalachian Trail. By the mid 1960s he was working on his PhD in entymology at Yale. His specialty was butterflies. But just when he should have been settling into a comfortable middle age, he renounced his life in academia and threw all his energies into the anti-war movement.

“How could I go on chasing butterflies,” he once said to me, “when there was this war that had to be stopped?”

Sun Bear moved to New Hampshire in the mid 1970s to live on a land trust. He continued to be involved with activist groups like the Clamshell Alliance and made his living painting homes. He had found his freedom by reducing his wants. He came to his first Rainbow Gathering in 1984 and took to it like a duck to water.

The trail widened in the final half-mile of our trek. An EMT, who was at his first gathering, was now walking alongside the stretcher listening to Sun Bear describe how he felt. He was still in a lot of pain. But, his condition had remained stable throughout the evacuation. We reached the trailhead and carefully slid the stretcher under the locked gate. A small, tan-colored car (about the size of a Toyota Camry) with blinking red lights was waiting for us in the middle of the dirt road.

We laid the stretcher down for a moment by the car’s back right door. Sun Bear checked his wallet and then put it back in the front left pocket of his blue jeans. Someone circled around to the other side of the car to help load him into the backseat. I knelt in front of the stretcher and looked into his eyes.

“I love you Sun Bear.”

“Oh...Oh thank you John.” His voice was feeble from exhaustion but he was still fully alert.

Then, the call went up to load Sun Bear into the car, which would transport him the remaining half-mile to Telegraph Hill. The person who had crawled into the backseat of the car lifted him from under the shoulders. I took him from beneath his lower back and someone else took him by the legs. We slid him in gently. But, the back seat of the car was small and it was an awkward fit.

Sun Bear’s head was propped low where the passenger door met the back rest and his feet had to be tucked under the front passenger seat so that we could close the door. There wasn’t any room for someone to be at Sun Bear’s side in the backseat. The car started slowly up the hill, then red brake lights came on. The car stopped for at least 30-60 seconds and then continued out of sight.

I was walking up the hill with a couple of brothers from Telegraph Hill. We were relieved and excited. The evacuation, which took roughly a half-hour, had been swift and flawless. We thought the worst was over. We were wrong.

The Death of Sun Bear

When Sun Bear arrived at Telegraph Hill, he was neither conscious nor breathing. While riding in the car, he had resumed vomiting. His head tilted back and he began choking on the orangish-brown vomit. The people in the car stopped and tried to clear his breathing passage in order to perform CPR. But, they quickly decided to bring him the rest of the way to Telegraph Hill where there were more people with medical training.

Sun Bear was laid out on the ground next to a super long RV. His heartbeat was rapid but disorganized. The stress of the choking incident had sent his heartbeat suddenly soaring. There was no pulse in either his wrist or his neck. He was experiencing a kind of arrhythmia known as ventricular fibrillation in which the heart’s signals fire randomly.

His pupils had dilated and receded to the back of his eyes. There was yelling and shouting and a swarm of people hovered around Sun Bear trying to revive his heartbeat and his breathing with CPR. And a couple of teenagers with a cel phone, who didn’t know where they were, were trying to give directions to the 911 operator.

I had been walking and hitchhiking on these roads for 6 weeks and I took the phone. Sun Bear had already been unconscious for at least 10 minutes. I tried to explain where we were to the St. Mary’s-based dispatcher:

“...Go through Ridgway to Grant Road. Take a right on Grant Road and go about 4 miles until you come to Bingham Road which will be the second paved road on your left”...”No, not right! On your left!”...No, not Dingham Road! Bingham Road. With a B!”...”OK, look, once you’re on Bingham Road, it will be paved for a couple of miles until it turns into a dirt road. That’s FS 135. Follow that straight for 7-8 miles going toward Owls Nest and you’ll find us. We’re right on the road”...”Please come as fast as you can. This is serious!...”

I returned the cel phone and went to look in on Sun Bear. He was stripped down to his waist and people were still taking turns giving him CPR. I averted my gaze. Sun Bear was dying and I didn’t want to face that. I borrowed the cel phone again and placed another 911 call from the top of Telegraph Hill. The operator reassured me that the ambulance had already been dispatched.

Just then, Sun Bear was loaded onto a lone futon in the back of an empty, burgundy-colored Toyota van. Several people hopped in back to accompany Sun Bear. The “hippie ambulance” was headed in the direction of Ridgway.

Some people on the scene say that Sun Bear was dead before he left Telegraph Hill. Those who were with him in the van believe he was alive - just barely - for most of the six miles they covered before meeting up with the hospital ambulance on FS 135, one mile before it turns into Bingham Road.

A brother and a sister were taking turns giving Sun Bear CPR. Then, Sun Bear purged himself for the last time. The brother who was giving him CPR believes that was the moment Sun Bear gave up the ghost and departed for the Spirit World. The hippies followed the ambulance to the St. Mary’s Regional Hospital. Sun Bear was pronounced dead soon thereafter at about 11 p.m. His friends made a circle around his body and sang and prayed and ohmmed. And then they made the slow, sad journey back to camp.

On the day after, many of us were wondering what could have been done differently. One sister pointed out that in Sun Bear’s case the emergency evacuation may have been unnecessary; that what Sun Bear need when we found him at Krystal Kitchen was a good enema plus induced vomiting. Coming from a different perspective, someone else reflexively blamed the Forest Service for this tragedy. If the silver gate had been open, as the Rainbows had requested all along, then an ambulance (which we never called in the first place) would have been able to go part way down the trail to pick up Sun Bear.

Everyone did the best they could under hectic and stressful circumstances. Still, I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me (or anyone else) to call for an ambulance right from the beginning. Perhaps we were too absorbed in the moment at hand to see the larger picture. Likewise, I am baffled by why such a small vehicle was sent down from Telegraph Hill to originally pick up Sun Bear. On the other hand, I was there when it happened and said nothing.

I hope we learn whatever we need to learn from this experience; that we don’t just take the easy way out and say “it was meant to be”.

Sun Bear was both very young and very old. With his gentle ways and his timeless wisdom, he was there for everybody to embrace, like a sturdy old oak tree. He was unique and irreplaceable. I loved him a lot and now he is gone.

I did not know Sunbear- never met him, never conversed with him, and never grew to love him as some did. I do believe, however, that this has been the most moving Eulegys that I have ever been subject to hearing in my entire life. I am sad that I never had the chance to meet this obviously wonderful person. Before, when I first heard of his passing, the thoughts that crossed my mind were, “someone that I didn’t know died. That’s too bad.” Then “I am saddened that someone that must have truely been a great person died, without my knowing him.” And when the picture was posted, he became more than just a name, but a face as well. You see, he looks so much like my beloved grandfather, who passed several years ago. When people began to share stories of him he grew even more real to me, and I was even more disturbed by his passing...

I was subject to poetry written about him (I’m currently writing music to go along with it), and I felt that even though I never spoke with him, or even saw him in person... I knew him. In my heart, I knew him. When I recieved this story of his passing, I began to cry. Not simply because a good man died, but because of a multitude of things. I never met him. That hurts! I don’t know why... but somehow, indirectly, this man affected my life. I believe that because he affected so many other people’s lives, he affected mine just by existing. Another reason, is because I wasn’t there to help. That also hurts. My grandfather (who I mentioned above) had many heartattacks throughout his life. During my earlier childhood, I learned what to do in this type of an emergency... and I may have been able to help him when he first began to suffer. Granted, I, alone, may not have been able to prevent his death, but the chance was there that I could have at least given him time before the paramedics came.

I’d like to thank the author of the journal entry. I was very touched by it. Very. And, I feel that I can offer another song in the memory of Sunbear. It has a religious tone to it, but I believe that it describes his life, and passing with incredible similarity. It’s called Thank You, and I can’t for the life of me remember the first two lines. They had something to do with the speaker having a dream (about Heaven), and this is what the dream was about... I know I’ll remember the lines after I send this message... oh well :) The point of the song is still quite evident.

Happily distraught,
Caeris

THANK YOU

We walked along the streets of gold;
Beside the crystal sea.
We heard the angels singing;
Then someone called your name.
You turned and saw a young man,
And he was smiling, as he came.

He said, “Friend, you may not know me now.”
And then he said, “But wait.”
“You used to teach my sunday school
When I was only eight.
And every week, you would say a prayer
Before the class could start.
One day, when you said that prayer
I asked Jesus in my heart.”

Then another man stood before you
And said, “Remember the time
A missionary came to your church
And his pictures made you cry.
You didn’t have much money
But you gave it anyway.
Jesus took the gift you gave,
And that’s why I’m here today.”

Thank you
For giving to the Lord.
I am a life that was changed.
Thank you
For giving to the Lord.
I am so glad you came.

One by one they came
As far as the eye could see.
Each one somehow touched
By your generosity
Little things that you had done-
Sacrifices made;
Unnoticed on the earth
In heaven now proclaimed.

And I know up in Heaven,
You’re not supposed to cry...
But I am almost sure that
There were tears in your eyes.
As Jesus took your hand,
And you stood before the Lord-
He said, “My child, look around you-
For great is your reward...”

Thank you

For giving to the Lord.
These are the lives that were changed.
Thank you
For giving to the Lord...
We are so glad you gave.

With the tribute site going up, and John’s post I have been just to sad to get any work done today.

Your post was the “dam buster” the one that finally allowed the tears to come streaming from my eyes.

What a lovely post from someone who didn’t even know Sunbear.

Thank you.

Hawker

P.S. Hey folks remember to switch to using gath...@conf.welcomehome.org, not gath...@cygnus.com for all AGR posts.
P.P.S. The 1998 Arizona Gathering music recordings in MP3 flavor and CD info may be found at....
ftp://ftp.xichron.com/xfer/Music_from_the_Campfires.html
Info on obtaining this CD can be found by e-mailing me at Hawker@Connriver.net

Our Brother Sun Bear, was and is testimony as to what a True Spiritual Warrior is about, I as you and many many others share this awful grief at losing such a fine Light, he was born out of a certain time when courage and decent-see were the norm, a true elder in every sense of the word, Oh Brother Sun Bear, onward and onward my dear friend. I shall never ever forget “those words” my brother Meesh!

There once was a tear drop that drifted over a vast and baren land seeing it’s destiny to be lost, it cried and cried til ten billion tear drops fell and a paridise was born, may the future bring many a young one with your kind of light my Meesh, back to our beloved Rainbow, Brother Sun Bear you honored us all, sow very well!

Oh Creator, please take good care of Meesh, for he is your own, he is your Sun. Devine effulgent light embrace his love and welcome him home. That gardner cared alot, a tear drop fell and ten billion flowed.

ps. thank you Hawker and Jimmy2feathers, a friend.

Sent via Deja.com http://www.deja.com/
Share what you know. Learn what you don’t.

I meet Sunbear at The Ithaca Regional gathering a few yers back. He was a true Rainbow and very spirited. I am deeply sadened by his passing. May he be remebered in spirit as well as the light that he gave us throgh inspiration.